Eternal Silence
by OmoideKeeper
Summary: PG for angst. In the book, The Bone Doll's Twin, an infant is killed so that his body can be given to his twin. From Brother's POV about his life and those who betrayed him at his birth.


Eternal Silence

By OmoideKeeper

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Alone I wait. In silence, waiting, endlessly waiting for something that will never, can never come. No one notices me, hidden as I am from normal sight, deprived of life but for that single breath I stole from those who would've denied me even that. I remember their names, I remember their faces, I remember their hearts, minds, and souls. I know their reasoning behind what they did to me. And still, I cannot forgive them. Every moment of my pitiful existance, I think of them and of the life I could've led. I can never forget who caused my pain and suffering. 

If it had not been for them, I would've been free to run and play, free to grow as a normal boy. I would've been the son of a Princess, a Companion to the Prince Royal, a warrior. 

If not for them. 

Those eternally damned, though not as damned as I am. Their names burn into me, searing my mind. 

Lhel. The witch who dared to destroy me with her accursed blood magic. The woman who chose to help soothe my aching spirit. The one who shattered the life within me, the one who protected my soul. My guardian. 

It seems so odd now to watch her speak with my twin, to know that she knows the truth, and yet she will not tell her. Lhel, the carrier of infinite questions, the one who chooses to hide and still is seen. The one who is bothmoon-goddess blessed, hell-cursed. I can hear her sometimes, late at night, begging me to calm my soul, to stop my rampage on the world controlled first only by Mama and now only by my twin they call Tobin. She is the one who dared to go against the Wizard and help to save me from eternal damnation. The only one who cared enough to keep me from becoming a demon-spirit. Destroyer and destroyed, she keeps watch for me. 

Duke Rhuis. Tobin's father. What kind of father allows his own child to be murdered on the night of their birth? He allowed me to die, although he did not do the actual deed. He now lies dead, but I know his spirit wanders as mine does. The dead pay for theif actions in the living world. He who would have been called only one thing. My father. 

Had he been the kind of person Mama was, the sort of person who truly loved their children, not for what power they could hold, but for themselves, I may have found it in me to forgive him. He destroyed me so that he could have a Queen. He *lied* about my death, assisting in giving me a form not my own to inhabit. I watched him care for Tobin, and, no matter how I tried to stop it, something in me rose up and wanted him to teach me that way, the gentle, loving person. Why couldn't he have been that way for me? Why did he have to kill me? 

Nari. The nurse chosen to care for Tobin. She had knowledge of my death, though she didn't do much. The woman who chose to watch a child die for the sake of another child. I still can't imagine how such a cruel, heartless person could have been gifted with her own child, and then another. To me, she would have been what she was, and still is, to Tobin. My nurse. 

Her own child died just weeks before Tobin's and my birth. I say it was the god's way of showing their disapproval of what she was about to become party to. She still went along with it, and she shall suffer for that. Nari, the one who could've done *something* to stop what happened. I cannot blame her entirely though. She was against a Wizard she trusted, and a great deal of hope lay in it for her. She would live with nobles, she would become respected in a house of nobility, and she would be able to care for another child in place of the one that had been lost. The cost? Watching as another child was murdered. Nothing much. Even so, sometimes, I think I can hear her crying at night, and I wonder what child she sheds those tears for. 

Iya. The Wizard damned infinite times who thought she could change the world. The heartless sadist who sacrificed my life to further her cause. The hypocrite who cringes at the sights of those she cares for as they lay burned and hanged and yet held no compassion for a helpless infant. My murderer. 

She came only once to visit Tobin, only once to see how her cause had been helped. I stopped her then. She wasn't allowed to sully the home my twin called sanctuary with her filthy magic, uncleansed, even now, of the evil she commited years ago at my birth, what should have been the beginning of my life. She holds no place in her heart for me, the child who should've lived. She knows nothing of the pain I've borne, and wishes to know only what she already does. She believes herself safe from the horrors she's commited in the past. She thinks she's pristine. Foolish Wizard! The dead never forget what has been done. 

Arkoniel. I can still see his face as he placed me on the ground, his salty tears rolling down in tracks which looked like delicate glass, falling onto my body, the only nourishment I've ever been allowed to taste. His tears, his repentence for what he had done. My strength. 

I warned him when he first arrived of what lay beneath the facade chosen for that place, Tobin's sanctuary. I showed him who I was. I told him the truth of what went on. And he still came and stayed. The fool. I warned him that I had tasted his tears, but he did not realize that I meant that through them I could see into his soul. I let him pass, let him live, only because I knew Tobin would need him in the future. It wasn't fair, it wasn't FAIR that I had to let him live. It was less fair that I found I wished him harm less and less. I wanted, want to hate him. But I can't. He is my strength, the one who cared for me, but cared too late. 

Why can't I forget them? Without them to tie me here, would I lead this hell-cursed existence? I do not live, nor am I completely dead. What am I? I can see, touch, and listen to what is around me, even if others don't know I'm here, don't know who I am. I cannot be heard by most, except those who cursed me or have tried to help me or are tied to me by blood, flesh, and bone. Even so, I can speak to them all. Most of all, I can still feel. 

I have emotions running through my body, the pain of my death, the sadness of Mama's death, the anger at those who helped me to become what I am now. These emotions are the gift and the curse of my first, last, only breath in this world. I would be happier without them, perhaps, but it would give me nothing in return to be without them. I want to live, but I know that can never be. 

The gift of life is not mine to have. 

The only thing I may do is wait and watch. 

Eternally alone.   


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So, what'd you think? 


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